Simplicity Is Beauty
by RainOrTears
Summary: Series of randomness, ranging from everything. Can't really classify them as drabbles or one-shots. Set at different times in the books.
1. A Change

_Disclaimer: I do not own Artemis Fowl._

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Twin tear tracks drift lazily from her face. As they descend from her eyes, they wipe away the makeup surrounding her retinas. They drip down her cheeks, where they take away the grit and grime of her exterior. As they reach her lips, they glide down to meet one another in the middle, taking the colour of her lips with them. Once they are joined in the middle, they drip silently into the grass. The process of this painstakingly slow job is evident upon her naturally angelic features. A new skin seeps through the tear tracks, releasing a new façade with it. She no longer looks of a Barbie doll, but as a person. She lets her true side unfold into the publicity of open grass and nothingness. She was too late to be treated as a person, just another wannabe.  
That was when she took responsibility for her actions, and decided to stand out of the shadows and into the spotlight of the high school jungle. That was the day that she decided to become a police officer, and to make a difference that no other girl in her school would make. To stand up against what was wrong, instead of joining in, because it was easier. Because even though it was a harder choice at the time, it paid off in the long run. Instead of going out to parties, she studied for her exams. Instead of hanging out after school, she got into athletics, and got in shape. Instead of dropping out of high school, she went to college. And instead of dreading that one day for the rest of her life, she embraced it, because it was the start of a new beginning, and the end to a hatred past. It happened for a reason. It made a change, because everything happened for a reason, and she learned to never regret, because it was a waste of time. She embraced that day, because even though that was her worst day at the time, it was her favourite day when she looked back.  
Never let yourself become something you're not. Live without regrets and believe that everything happens for a reason. And cry like the sky cries, and never hold it back.

_A/N: This could be taken in whatever direction you want. I thought of Lili Frond when I looked back at it. Please review._


	2. Gimme Sympathy

_Disclaimer: I do not own Artemis Fowl, or the Beatles and any of their songs. (duh)_

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Gimme Sympathy**

The flames licked the sides of its cage. Orange, red, yellow, even little wisps' of blue and green lit up in the pit. He stared intently. He was looking past the colours though; he had grown bored of those when he was two years of age. Thinking, plotting, but mostly thinking. Thinking about the past. And how the memories seemed thin, surreal. Like they weren't really his, but something that his cranium was forced to remember. By some greater power, by some hidden secret, that he knew, but didn't. It was on the tip of his tongue. It was on the brink of insanity.

He remembered something though, a name. Holly, and as he thought more and more about how he didn't know a Holly, he remembered something else. A word, more than a name this time, for whoever named their child such a name, would be cruel; Mulch. He sighed inwardly; his conscience was reminding him of firing the gardener. The lazy shlump had forgotten yet again to re mulch his mother's favourite plant. He didn't know why this bothered him so much, they were berries. But somehow he couldn't get past the thought of knowing a Holly. He could feel it in his bones.

As he looked yet again into the depths of the fire, he could hear the bleary sound of music coming from inside his manor. He let a chuckle slip, as he sat up; his father was blasting the Beatles. 'Twist and Shout', being his favourite song. He was reminded of his thoughts when 'There's a Place' came on, and the lyrics were clearer than the previous song. Holly…Holly. He sighed again. This time more violently. Knowing something but not at the same time was infuriating, and he had a feeling that someone else knew. Now that was catastrophic. Knowing something but not knowing was infuriating enough, but when someone else knew, and you didn't, that never ended well for the latter person. He stood up and started pacing. He knew this, he knew it. He just had to review.

So something about a Holly, possibly something to do with mulch, what else? _Trouble_. Yes, there was defiantly something about trouble. His mind couldn't link these words together. Frustrating, it was, to have an IQ the size of his and not be able to play a mind game with your own, well in lack of a better word, mind. _Holly, mulch, trouble._ All such innocent words, but raising a conflict in his brain. Then another came to him. _Foaly_. Now that didn't make any sense at all. Perhaps his mind was implying the word _foley _instead of _foaly. _As in a Foley artist, or someone who made the sound effects in movies, for a living. But his brain insisted that he mentally spell it Foaly, and that he spelt Holly, Mulch and Trouble, all with capitals, implying that they were names. _Holly, Mulch, Trouble and Foaly._ And, then he suddenly stopped pacing, and remembered one more word. Not a name this time, nor plant, nor occupation, nor adjective. But a species; a species that he had always thought to be mythological, and unreal. _Fairies._ The brink of insanity, surely. But also the word that had been on the tip of his tongue. He had all the information, he just had to wait.

Sure enough, one week later he got a parcel in the mail, from one certain, 'Diggums, Mulch'. Inside, was what seemed to be a coin, but really held so much more. Memories. And the chance to dip over the brink right into insanity. He was willing. Not because he had a hunch, or because of the scribbled and just barely eligible writing on the post-it stuck to the coin, saying,

"Mudboy, I hope this helps. Mulch"

No, these things were things that he glanced at, until coming to a letter (in much nicer printing I might add) saying,

"Artemis, don't beat yourself up about the past. You're gonna make mistakes; you're young. I can't give you too much sympathy though. It's been fun. Holly."

That tipped him over the brink, diving willingly head first into insanity. And when he popped the disk into his computer, and a picture of his younger self appeared on screen, he sighed happily and watched.

In the depths of the manor, he could just make out his father blasting 'Here Comes the Sun'.

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_A/N: An alternate beginning, I guess. If I could change the way Artemis found out about fairies after being mind wiped, this would be how. Based off of Metric's 'Gimme Sympathy'._


	3. One Solitary Tree

_Disclaimer: For anyone who was wondering, I do not own Artemis Fowl._

_Oh! And to anyone who was wondering,(Claris L. Clearwater), Lili Frond, is the other female police officer (other than Holly and Vinyaya) in the LEP and I think that Holly described her as a bimbo...but in general she's just another LEP officer._

**One Solitary Tree **

One solitary tree, alone in the depths of one solitary field. Surrounded by nothing but open air, it was the perfect place to think. _Her_ perfect place to think. She sat on the swing connected to the strongest branch of the old oak. The leaves had begun to change colour, in celebration of autumn coming, and were now a wonderful shade of crimson red. She swung slowly, in sync with the wind. Flipping through the pages of her novel, her expression changed as the book progressed. She felt a light push on her back, indicating that someone else was there. She turned around to find her friend sitting on a nearby branch. She smiled at him, but it was not one hundred percent genuine. She liked to think that this place was untouchable to anyone and everyone but herself. Silence overtook them, as he let her finish her chapter. When she finally put the book on her lap, he broke the silence.

"Why do you come here?" he asked. She thought about this, it wasn't the first time that the thought had come across her mind. It just felt kind of right, she supposed. Though, out loud she voiced a different answer, her mind still groggy from waking up into reality.

"I don't know." She stated. He looked down at her twirling a leaf with his finger.

"Well, what makes it special to you?" he asked, trying to help her give a better answer than the one that he had received.

"Nothing." She said, sighing. He would never learn to appreciate nature the way she did. It was something that was imbedded into her blood stream, and it was what caused her to feel so at home while at the oak. "But sometimes," she voiced her thoughts this time. "Nothing _needs_ to be special about something. Having nothing special about it makes it special in every which way."

"Oh," he said. She sighed again, he still didn't understand.

"Look, I come here, because it feels right. It's a place where I can be myself, and I can think. It's quiet, but not eerily so. It's beautiful, but not in a trying kind of way. I mean, anyone can say that a waterfall that parts down the middle and has a bench waiting for them to sit on, is perfect. But this is just a tree with just a swing, and just I can really appreciate it that way. And that makes it perfect to me."

"That's very, deep of you to say. You've obviously _have_ thought about this before." He stated the obvious. She decided to ignore it and just nodded, returning to her book. He jumped off of the branch that he was sitting on and landed with a sharp _thud_ to the ground. The grass was already dying from the cold, frost but his landing seemed to also make a footprint indent in it from it being so vulnerable. She looked up at him and raised her eyebrows.

"Nice." She said smiling.

"Well if I remember correctly, you were never that graceful either." He said.

"True." She said simply. She didn't want to get into an argument now, or another big conversation. The sun was going to be setting soon, and she wanted it to be just her and the oak. The way that the wonderful shade of red that the sky turned, complimented the wonderful crimson red of the leaves, it was something that had to be witnessed in solitude. Something only she could really appreciate. She turned to ask him to leave, but he was no longer there. Having seen the way that she looked at the tree, he couldn't bring himself up to what he had originally came to tell her. She looked at home, and at peace, he couldn't be the one to tell her that tomorrow, it wouldn't be there. Because tomorrow, that wonderful, brilliant oak, was scheduled for demolition, by the lumberjack company that _his_ father had hired. All just to make a profit. Not so long ago, he would've agreed with his elder, but Holly had changed his perspective. How she explained that it was perfect without trying to be, it described her passion for nature. He had seen the way that she looked at that tree, with pure admiration and ecstasy. He couldn't be the one to take that away from her. Not now, not never. Because he would never get to be her friend again, it would tear them apart. All because of one solitary tree, in one solitary field, with one solitary girl, swinging away all her solitary thoughts.

_If you can picture this, then you receive a metaphorical cyber cookie. (Yay, you!) If I could have any place in the world, it would be a tree just like this. Anyways…reviews? In case you didn't figure it out, Artemis and Holly were starring in this one-shot._


	4. The Heart's Remains

**The ****Heart's Remains**

Collapse. Collapse into the ground, and pick up the pieces. Stain them with tears, and recognition that you'll never be the same. Smear the ashes of your ache over them. Sprinkle some unneeded blood over them. Sacrifice something, even though they wouldn't for you.

Touch. Touch them with your heart. Try, even though you know you can't. Knowing that they are out of reach, but screaming in front of you. The urge to grasp them overcomes. Gently or violently, you'll never know.

Scream. Scream into the unforgiving sky. With the fury and disregarding of devil and angel. Loud and violently. Then silently and whimpering. The black wind speaks over you, then whispers as if encouraging. Try again, and receive the same outcome.

Direction. Lost. Blinded by the horror they call love. The horror that was made clear by your tears. The dream becomes the nightmare, and laughs in your stricken face. Right in front of you, but invisible, hidden by what you mistook for reality.

Emotion? Forgotten by the world around you. Forgotten for reasons like this. For reasons unbelievable to you before you were involuntarily given firsthand experience. Didn't ask for this. No one did. But that didn't mean they didn't receive it.

Unfair. Only the beginning. So many more ways to describe it, but your distraught face says it all. They have seen that face before. With different eyes, nose, mouth, but the destroyed emotion all the same. It was their job. It was the way they were, but you didn't look deep enough to see it. Or they didn't let you. Why would they let you though, when they could just experience ruining the world as you knew it, by cutting you off from the one thing you wanted: Them.

As you pick up your heart's remains, the cold heartless wind sends a final shiver up your spine, before reaching your ear, and whispering _hope. _Before leaving you alone to start again, wipe the tears by yourself, scrape away that recognition with nothing more than the sharp edges of the still beating pieces in your hands, and accept the blood back before you lost too much. Take back the sacrifice, _because _they wouldn't for you.

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**This started out as a response (_N__ot_ songfic; I crossed that line, deleted, then went back to just "inspired by", never to return to the world of songfics. I really apologize to anyone who read that. It was bad. As a precaution, I've banned all Taylor Swift from my iPod.) ****to _Valentine's Day_ by Linkin Park, but then took it's own kind of twist. Place whatever character's name you want in the blank, I think this sort of thing could pertain to whoever you want, although I was vaguely reminded of Opal, probably because she strikes me as fairly a dramatic character. Anyways, reviews? Anyone? Anyone?**


	5. White Out

**White Out**

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"Butler, what is this?"

Said manservant stepped closer to the tiny bottle that Artemis was holding in his hand. His charge looked like he was about to go on a rant, but he remained still. Artemis' eyes looked glazed over, like when he had been thinking or staring at his computer screen for too long.

"Uh, white out, sir?"

Was Artemis testing him? Surely the genius knew what the concoction was, and perhaps even made out of. Yet, he still looked distant.

"Yes, old friend. White out. Do you know what white out is used for?"

"To erase mistakes, Artemis what are you getting at?"

Artemis tore his eyes down to look at the tiny bottle. "It's amazing really; something that was supposed to fix everyone's problems made them much worse. Did you know that white out used to include trichloroethane? Though it is not as powerful as other toxins, trichloroethane acts as a depressant. It can cause dizziness and confusion if inhaled. And if inhaled in reasonable measurements, it can result in unconsciousness and even death. Once it was figured out that the ingredients were hazardous, they removed the trichloroethane, but it still caused quite a riot." He looked up at Butler. "Does attempting to fix your mistakes always leave you in worse situations?"

Butler opened his mouth, but found that no words came to him. He thought for a moment, then said, "Artemis what did you do that made you think like this?"

Artemis just sighed. He turned away from Butler and replied, "Nothing that is quite as easy to fix, as taking a toxin out of the equation."

Butler put a hand on Artemis' shoulder. "Artemis,"

"No, Butler. Thank you but you and I both know that when I try to fix a situation, I only make it worse." He turned back to Butler and breathed, "I am the trichloroethane."

Butler heaved a dramatic sigh. He was tempted to shake his charge, but refrained. "Artemis, you are no toxin, not anymore at least. You have changed. You don't hurt people anymore. You were the one who replaced the trichloroethane. You have fixed your mistakes. You've learned from them."

"Butler, do you realize that every sentence you said there started with _you_? It shouldn't be about me Butler. It should be about others. That is what I am trying to fix."

The manservant thought for a moment, then continued. "Artemis, do you write a word, then put white out on it, even though it is not needed?"

Artemis shook his head.

"No, you don't. You can't fix something that hasn't been broken Artemis. You haven't done anything wrong."

"What if I have Butler? What of something _happened_ to have gone wrong? What would I do then? I don't want to make the situation worse."

"Artemis, at that point, you put the white out down, and start with a new page. You start over, with a fresh untouched page, and you do your best not to make a mistake. But if you happen to, then you always have a pencil beside you. While it may not look as elegant as pen, but planning ahead never hurt."

And with that he walked off; leaving Artemis alone in his study.

What happened if the white out had been spread, but not thick enough? What happened he had been forgiven, but not fully? Artemis took a blank piece of paper out of his drawer, and started to write. He didn't write in pen though, instead he wrote in pencil, where he had the ability to erase his mistakes without needing to inhale any toxins. He wrote a rough copy of his letter, and then wrote an identical one in pen. It was thought out, it was mistake free. All because he had a well executed plan, which he stuck to. And while it worked for writing, Artemis knew that it wasn't the same in real life. Things changed in real life, people interfered. But that didn't mean planning ahead hurt anyone. With his intelligence and his friends' own special abilities, he knew that he would always find a way to remove that trichloroethane.

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**Okay, so I had writer's block and I came across some white out. Sue me. Is it okay though? I didn't think it was bad. I hope the characters weren't OOC. I tried really hard. (insert persuading sentence hopefully evoking the reader) to review I hope you enjoyed it.**


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